


Trials Under Fire

by DanTanner20



Series: Flight of the Russian Eagle [2]
Category: Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally, Historical RPF, Political RPF - Russian 20th c., Russian Royalty RPF
Genre: Alternate History, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - 1940s, Alternate Universe - 1950s, Alternate Universe - Historical, Drama & Romance, F/M, Family Fluff, Family Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:06:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29101482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanTanner20/pseuds/DanTanner20
Summary: A part-sequel and spin off of A Dynasty's Destiny. This is the second part of my Russian alternate history series that will focus on the alternate 1940s to 1950s. The successor to Olga i of Russia, her eldest daughter Ekaterina Pavlovna Romanova, lives through an ever changing world and learns much about her place as a Romanov.
Relationships: Dmitri Pavlovich/Olga Nikolaevna Romanova (1895-1918)
Series: Flight of the Russian Eagle [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1871686
Comments: 11
Kudos: 3





	1. Same Old Place

_ Livadia, Russian Empire _

_ June 25, 1928 _

A slender woman with dark blonde hair sat on a beach chair beside her husband, a tall man with an athletic figure. The woman was dressed in a simple white dress with a long, flowing skirt. The man was dressed in a white suit with yellow sleeve cuffs. Medals of honor glistened under the Crimean sun. They watched their two children laugh and splash each other with the salty sea water of the Crimean Sea. Everything seemed so right, as if a small piece of lost paradise descended to earth. Her husband turned to face her with a wide smile, and her blue eyes shone with happiness. With his cornflower blue eyes hooded, the man leaned over to kiss his love. She complied, placing her arm on his back to hold him closer. The kiss started as a chaste peck, but it soon became more passionate as desire swept through them. They joined lips again in a tight coupling, humming in appreciation and satisfaction, wrapping their arms around each other. Only the need for air separated the enamoured couple: Olga I and Dmitri I of Russia.

"Oh, Olya... you are so exquisite. My only regret is that there are no words to adequately express my feelings," the man said, holding the hand of his love.

"Mitya... I never thought before that we would fall in love, as we were so different. Now, I can hardly envision a life without you. Sometimes, I wonder what my father would have thought," Olga said, looking toward the horizon of the sea.

"I believe that his soul is smiling down as us from heaven itself. He must be happy that his little Tsarina has found her Tsar. Or, would you prefer me... untamed?"

Olga blushed. "Of course, but now is not an appropriate time. Our children are nearby."

"Yes, our two little joys. I can see that they are attempting to build a sand castle, why not join them?"

"We should take a picture once they finish."

Dmitri and Olga looked into the distance, savoring the gentle rhythm of the crashing waves and crying seagulls. They watched the peaceful scene play like a filler scene from a romance play. Handsome naval officers chattered and laughed, drinking aged Spanish wine from shining glasses. The servants also laughed and spoke with each other, enjoying their leisure under the white and blue colored marquees. One of them, a tall blonde woman with graying hair, glanced at the royal couple. Her lips curled in a gentle smile while she recalled how once she had taken care of a headstrong, intelligent Grand Duchess twenty years ago. Her friend, an aging Eugene Botkin, placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you alright, Nyuta?" a suited man with a graying beard said.

"Oh... I am fine, Mister Botkin," the tall blonde woman said.

"That is good to hear."

"I know... Oh, look at the tsarevitch and tsarevna play! They remind me of the Little Pair."

"They do. But now the Little Pair is not so little anymore, and removed from Russia. How sad," Eugene Botkin said, sighing.

"I do not know what to say, but we must trust that Olga knows what is best for Russia. Of course you recall the uproar and scandal that the affair between Anastasia and her commoner friend caused," Anna Demidova whispered.

"Nevertheless, Olga has been a very competent ruler for Russia, despite her temper. She is not perfect, but she is setting an exemplary example for her daughter. Our Tsarina has done many great deeds for not just Russia, but the world as well," she added.

Both Anna and Eugene took a filled glass of wine. They faced each other with mild smiles, and they clinked their glasses together.

"To Russia's everlasting peace and prosperity," they both said before drinking.

An hour passed. Some distance from the marquees, Dmitri and Olga got up from their chairs to play with their children. As they approached their two children, the boy noticed their presence. He got up, brushing the sand from his black and gold sailor suit. His blue eyes shone with happiness as he waved at his parents and pointed at the sand castle. His dark blonde hair seemed to glow golden under the sunlight like the hair of her mother. As the Tsarevitch, Sergei Pavlovich Romanov had lived a comfortable life under the supervision of his parents. He had been raised with strict discipline by his father, a former military student and Grand Duke before his co-reign as Tsar. Still, his playfulness and yearning for freedom had never waned.

His sister, Ekaterina Pavlovna Romanova, was less playful. However, she was stubborn and sensible like her mother. The round face and high cheekbones came from her mother, but her long, thin nose and light brown hair came from her father. As the named successor to Olga I of Russia, she would become the next Tsarina. Such a thing was off of her mind. It was summer time, and the eight year old Grand Duchess Ekaterina wanted to have fun like any other child would.

"Look, Papa, Mama! We built a sand castle. What do we name it?" the young Tsarevitch called out.

"Perhaps the Summer Palace?" Dmitri said, squatting beside his son.

Olga shook her head. "I think that Livadia Keep would make a better name. What do you think, Ekaterina?"

"Sorry, Mama, but I like Papa's idea more. It sounds like Winter Palace, and it is summer now," Ekaterina said.

"Looks like your daughter has a point, Your Majesty," Dmitri teased, smirking at his wife.

Olga rolled her eyes. "I still think that Livadia Keep is a better idea. A castle is not a palace, dear."

The royal couple enjoyed their time with their children, playing and talking with them. Olga thought of the previous times she had been to Livadia during her younger years. The experience almost made her feel as if she were like her late mother watching over her children. The thought made her feel happy yet melancholic, a strange cocktail of feelings brewing inside her heart. She wiped her eyes when they watered. An officer and suited man arrived near the royal family, holding a 1924 Kodak accordion camera and tripod stand.

"Your Majesties, do you both agree for a picture?" the suited man said.

"Absolutely, Mister Yuri," Olga said, and Dmitri nodded.

The royal family posed for the photograph. Olga and her husband sat together, and their two children squatted in front of them. Beside them, the sand castle was visible. A bright flash emanated from the camera, and it took a few moments for the picture to develop. The picture was removed from the camera with the careful hands of the photographer.

"Here is the picture. I hope it is to your liking, Your Majesties," the photographer said, handing the photograph to the royal couple.

"This will make the people love us," Dmitri spoke.

"Certainly, but now I believe that we should find shade before we get a sunburn," Olga said, rubbing her now reddening arm with one of her hands.

The royal couple made their way to the marquees. Not far behind, the royal children and the photographer followed.

Olga sighed in relief as she felt the coolness of the shade on her skin. She had been out in the sun for some time, and her skin already felt dry and hot. She noticed that her former handmaiden, Anna, sat on a chair nearby. Olga then approached her former caretaker.

"A good afternoon to you, Nyuta," Olga greeted, sitting on a chair next to the handmaiden.

The handmaiden smiled. "Good afternoon, your Majesty. I must admit something."

"Go on, you are free to express yourself. "

Anna smiled, and tears escaped the confines of her eyes. "You make me proud of you, Olya. If your parents were here, they would be proud of you too."

"Yes, they would... God bless their souls."

Dmitri shrugged. He led Ekaterina and Sergei to the refreshment table, where he poured cups of water for them. As he gave the cups to his two beloved children, he chuckled. He could still hardly believe that everything has somehow gone right for himself, his first removed cousin Olga, and Russia. Yet it was love for the people that changed his country for the better, and it was love that overrode the differences between him and his wife. With love, the world would continue towards a greater future.


	2. Same Old Place Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young Grand Duchess Ekaterina Pavlovna Romanova and Tsarevitch Sergei return to Livadia Palace, and fluff ensures.

Ekaterina and the rest of her family returned to Livadia Palace a few hours later with their servants and officers following behind. Walking behind her parents, Ekaterina saw the same majestic building that she knew as her summer home. The white limestone facade rose three stories above the ground, overlooking the land around it. Tall framed windows were opened, allowing the sea breezes to cool the interior of the home. Italian columns and arches decorated the balconies and walls of the palace like the lavish homes of the Italian nobility. There, she had made many memories close to her heart: her first visit when she was two, her first visit to the mausoleum of her grandparents, and her first time learning how to swim in the newly added swimming pool. One day, if she had children, she would take them there.

She felt a weak pinch on her shoulder, and she glared at her brother. Even as the Tsarevitch, Sergei was such an annoyance sometimes to the elder Grand Duchess. She rolled her eyes. Sergei snickered, which earned him a quick comment from his mother.

"Sergei, stop bothering your sister," Olga chided.

"Yes, Mama," Sergei said, crossing his fingers behind his back.

"Listen to Mama, Seryozha. Do not be naughty, you are a prince of Russia," Ekaterina said, then smirking at her brother.

Sergei stuck his tongue out at his sister. His older sister did not have the temper the Tsarina had. She was calm and serious unlike her vivacious and playful younger brother. Instead, she decided to say nothing.

The Crimean sun seemed to get hotter, making the family uncomfortable. Finally, the royal family reached the front entrance, and they were relieved when they went under the shaded porch. Two guards standing beside the entrance greeted them before opening the door. Olga and Dmitri went to their suite, which was once only reserved for the late Tsar and Tsarina. Behind them, handmaidens such as Nyuta led the children to their bedrooms. Chuckling and chattering from the sailors and guards still sounded in the halls of the palace. It seemed as if this were a vacation for all members of their entourage too.

Now within the private confines of their room, the Tsar and Tsarina began to change clothes. Olga went to one corner of the room to change her dress, and Dmitri gazed at her with his clear blue eyes. Olga was well aware of the attention given by her husband. The very thought made her blush. She took off her dress, leaving her in her brassiere and underpants. She still had a slender figure, but she had gained curves from two pregnancies, and she was a sight to behold to Dmitri. Hearing her husband puff out a breath, she felt happy that she had such an effect on him. The Tsarina felt like a true wife, adored by her once playboy husband.

"Like what you see, dear?" she said.

"I do, and I will feel the same even if we grow older," Dmitri replied.

"Oh, Mitya..." Olga said, placing a hand over her heart.

"I love you, Olya."

Dmitri tossed his soldier uniform aside. He searched his drawer for something simpler to wear, and he found a buttoned white shirt and black pants. He dressed into the clothes and looked at his reflection. The warmth he felt on his back must have come from the intense gaze of his wife.

His wife took a step to him, before whispering, "You look just fine, Mitya. Let us read the reports, we need to be careful with our responsibilities to Russia."

"You are right, our- ahem- relations can come later."

"I would love to do such a thing later, Mitya. Yet now is not the time, and you should consider the fact that we already have two children."

"If you know me, you should know that I participate in such relations for love, not only to bear children. You were always the more practical one," Dmitri said, chuckling.

Olga did not reply while she dressed into a plain, short-sleeved dress. Once she was finished with changing her attire, she combed her dark blonde hair whilst looking in a mirror. She smiled. At least her sister Tatiana had taught her hairstyling very well. Dmitri stood up, waiting for his wife to finish.

"Just a moment," she said.

"It has already been a moment... I thought you were quicker," he teased.

"Shush, Mitya. Try braiding hair yourself," Olga muttered.

"Alright, I will wait outside the room. Do not take too long."

His wife emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later. At once, he was met with such a beautiful sight. His wife, the Empress of Russia, had a sort of radiance around her exposed skin, and her dark blonde hair shone like gold under the electric lights. Her light blue eyes stared at him with a certain intensity he could not put into words. This was his wife: a bundle of intellect, beauty, and willpower bound within a five foot and five inch tall frame.

"We must waste no time. Our duty is to address the issue of an aggressive and dangerous communist Germany," Olga said.

"Of course, follow me. We do not want to keep our advisors waiting," Dmitri replied, holding his wife by the hand.

The Tsar and Tsarina passed through various hallways and rooms, soon reaching the White Hall. There, the advisors continued to chatter over various topics, but as soon as they spotted the royal couple entering the room, they ceased their conversations. The silence seemed unsettling, as the wind blew outside. It kept the advisors alert, who knew the stakes of the situation outside of Russia. Olga and Dmitri of Russia took their seats next to each other at the large table.

“As discussed yesterday, we must deal with the growing threat of the newly-formed German and Austro-Hungarian Communist Movements, and the Ottomans… The purpose of this meeting is to decide the best course of action,” Olga said.

“Certainly, the communists in Germany and Austro-Hungary would like to see us eradicated. To them, we are the last bastion of divinely-inspired monarchism and a target. We must take precautions to prevent them from gaining a foothold in our empire,” one advisor spoke.

“I second his motion,” another advisor said.

More advisors nodded. Dmitri gave a serious look at the advisors, who hoped not to disappoint their Tsar. The fate of millions of lives hung in peril. Communism had not only been an age-old threat to the Romanovs, but their allies as well. The British Empire and France would not enjoy the possible outcome of having communist insurrections.

The first advisor who spoke then handed a report to Olga. She opened it and began to scrutinize every sentence. As she read through the report, Olga had a serious look. Dmitri glanced at the report and frowned. Still, the memory of his Uncle Sergei being assassinated seemed fresh in his mind, as if it had happened only a year rather than decades ago. The radicals could not be bargained with, or even reasoned with. The only option left for the Tsar was to eliminate. For his family and his country, he would fight the communists to the very end.

“I have always been untrusting of the German monarchs, but they are necessary to restrict those horrid communists. We would have to cooperate with the German Kaiser to ensure that does not happen. If the communists attempt a revolution in Germany, intervention would be the only option, preferably with the Okhrana,” Olga said.

The advisors and military experts voiced their assent, and some nodded their heads. Olga took a deep breath, calming her feelings of worry. She had faced many fearful crises at home and abroad, and this would be resolved as well as the previous ones.

Dmitri then opened another folder containing important documents and maps, and he pulled out a map of the German Empire. The Tsar placed it upon the table before discussing with the advisors specific details of where and how the communist movements operated. The Tsarina sat, observing the discussion without a word.

Two hours passed, and the servants entered the room to offer tea and biscuits for the meeting intermission. Olga sighed in relief. Meetings such as this one often took hours, and breaks were much needed to relax her mind. Combined with the increasing heat within the room, the serious atmosphere of the meetings seemed oppressive.

“ _Spasibo_ , Mister Nevsky,” Dmitri said while a brown haired suited man poured tea into his cup.

The servant bowed before leaving the room with his peers. Dmitri enjoyed his shortbread biscuits and tea. He hoped that the children behaved well under his aging lady-in-waiting, Anna Demidova.

“I hope that Sergei is behaving well, Olya,” he said.

“I am certain he is, considering that he has the rational nature of his sister to balance his tendencies,” Olga replied, before drinking from her cup.

“Something that she inherited from a certain, excellent Tsarina…”

“You flatter me too much, Mitya. I am only a woman with great responsibilities.”

“It is also a large task to be the _batushka_ of the Russian people,” Dmitri commented, sipping from his cup.

“No one ever stated that parenting would be easy…”

“Nobody… except for those with natural abilities to parent.”

* * *

Within the bedroom for the Tsarevitch, Anna Demidova sat in a plush chair and watched the Tsarevitch and Grand Duchess talk. She was glad that the two royal children were well-behaved just like the four Grand Duchesses when they were younger.

“Katya, do you want to sneak with me to the White Hall? We can surprise Mama and Papa,” Sergei whispered. 

“ _Nyet._ ”

“Please?”

“ _Nyet,_ ” Ekaterina said, reaching for a book.

“You are boring,” Sergei said after a breathy huff.

“You should not cause trouble, as Mama said. She is busy doing her work now.”

The Tsarevitch muttered a yes before getting into his bed to read an adventure book. The free-spirited young boy admired the mood of the book. He was too young to partake in such adventures, but the dream remained. He hoped to sail overseas and see the prominent country of America someday.

Anna Demidova got up from her chair. She went beside Ekaterina, who seemed engrossed in the book. The young Grand Duchess looked up at her caretaker with a wide grin. With a quick glance at the cover, Anna knew that the royal daughter was reading the age-old classic of Red Riding Hood.

“So what happened to the hunter and the girl?”

“We do not know, but the story teaches something important, my dear. Do not trust strangers all the time.”

“Whoever made that story must be very wise.”

“Yes, very wise indeed. I am glad to see that you enjoy reading, as you can learn much from it.”

“Reading is my favorite thing to do, and even Seryozha likes to read too,” Ekaterina said, glancing at her brother.

“ _Nyet_ , sister, I like jokes and pranks more than reading,” Sergei said, shaking his head no.

Anna Demidova returned to her chair to take a seat. She continued to supervise the two royal children. A few minutes later, two servants entered the room with a guard. The guard nodded at Anna to acknowledge her presence before he bowed to the royal children. The two servants, including Mister Nevsky, served cups of cool water to the children.

“ _Spasibo_ , sir,” Sergei said as he took a filled cup.

His sister gave thanks before drinking from her cup. The servants left, leaving the guard in the room.

“I shall guard the entrance to the room, ma’am.”

The royal handmaiden nodded yes, allowing the guard to stand outside the bedroom door. She watched the royal children play tic tac toe over and over again, and she chuckled at the surprised look on the face of the Tsarevitch. The blue eyes of the Tsarevitch were wide open, and his mouth was agape.

“How are you so smart like Mama?”

“I was born smart… maybe because I got something from her.”

The royal children continued to talk until their parents made their way to the bedroom. Dmitri grinned wide, and playfully ruffled the dark blonde hair of his son. Olga made her way to her daughter before she knelt down.

“Mama is sorry that she could not see you for a while. Did you have fun with your brother?”

“Yes! I won more than him at tic tac toe!”

“Tic tac toe is a very easy game, dear. If I have time tomorrow, I can teach you both how to play chess.”

“That would be wonderful, Mama.”

Olga turned to her family handmaiden to thank her.

“Thank you very much, Nyuta, you may have a hiatus from your duties until further notice.”

“You are welcome, Olya.”

Yes, life would be blissful, but even good times never last forever. Everything would turn down a dark path during the War of 1943…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated with myself over the names of Olga's children. I decided that Ekaterina would best suit the daughter, as I believe Olga would have respected Catherine the Great as some role model. For her son, I chose Sergei to honor the foster father that Dmitri Pavlovich had after his real father Grand Duke Paul was banished. Now that I mention it, Grand Duke Paul might make an appearance in this story.
> 
> Up next, war breaks out between a communist Germany and Imperial Russia!


	3. War Breaks Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fast forward, and Ekaterina and Sergei both mature and become well-respected public figures. They grow up under fear of a communist Germany.... and war breaks out.

_ November 29, 1943 _

_ Alexander Palace, Tsarskoe Selo, Russian Empire _

Ekaterina, now a young woman of twenty-three years of age, became a beloved figure in public and the Russian Royal Family. She grew into a slender beauty with smooth skin, the signature light blue eyes, and her light brown hair. Anyone who encountered her would be filled with admiration and respect for the apparent heiress to the throne. Her tendency to think through her choices gave people the impression that she would be a wise Tsarina like her mother before her.

For the time being, her mother Olga I of Russia continued to reign over the vast Russian Empire. Russia was no longer the backwater that it once was, thanks to the wise decisions of Tsarina Olga and the firm guidance of Tsar Dmitri Pavlovich of Russia. Where carriages once rolled over battered streets, automobiles traversed over well-paved roads and avenues. Almost all rural towns and major cities had the basic modern necessities of running water and electricity. Also, almost every town and city in Russia had decent medical care: outbreaks were a horror long past. All of those advancements were only the pleasant after effects of a trade agreement with America, France, and Great Britain. Both physical goods and knowledge had traveled between the nations. Olga had the intent of caring for her people as their holy  _ matushka _ , and she had delivered well.

In the Mauve Room of the Alexander Palace, two women in white dresses sat in cushioned chairs around a white-painted desk. A radio rested on the table beside an empty red vase. The sounds of a talking newsman could be heard. While the two Grand Duchesses listened to the radio, they played chess.

“Aunt Tatiana, when will my parents return from their meeting in Moscow?” Ekaterina asked, capturing a knight with her pawn.

“Soon enough, dear. Your mother is not one who wastes time,” the older woman said, moving another pawn piece forward.

Ekaterina stared at the chess board deep in thought. Somehow, her aunt had created a strong layer of defense around her queen. She noticed a gap of uncovered tiles in the defensive position near a rook, and she decided to advance her pieces to the undefended rook. She checked around the spot, and it became apparent that it was not a trap.

“Wise move, dear… just as your mother would have done. She would often beat me at chess, but your youngest aunt Anastasia was the only one of us who could beat her even half of the time,” Tatiana said, looking at her oldest niece.

“Hmph. You and Mama occasionally talk about Auntie Anastasia, but I have never seen her. Neither have I seen Auntie Maria. Why must our family be so divided? We are all Romanovs,” Ekaterina said, looking into the gray eyes of her aunt.

Tatiana sighed. She kept silent, deep in thought. It was not an ideal family story to recall for the eldest Grand Duchess of Russia. The argument between her sisters Olga and Anastasia had been passionate and loud, and she could remember every cross word as if they had been spoken the day before. A proper Grand Duchess could not marry a commoner, and Anastasia had done just that. In the defense of the youngest Grand Duchess, she would only be happy if she were allowed such a morganatic association and possible marriage. The final resolution had ripped apart the once close association of OTMA. Anastasia and her fiance had left Russia along with Maria, leaving the Alexander Palace often dead quiet for the elder sisters.

“Auntie, I understand why you would not want to speak of that topic. If it is too painful to mention, then you should not say it,” Ekaterina said after a moment of silence.

“No, I am alright. I should have told you about the subject earlier, since there is much to learn of love versus practicality,” Tatiana replied, keeping her tone quiet.

“How so? What can I learn from what Auntie Anastasia did?”

“Please keep quiet, Katya. Allow me to speak…”

Ekaterina kept silent, placing her hands on her lap while her aunt began to speak.

“Like you and your brother Sergei, your mother and I were close with your other two aunts: Maria and Anastasia. Almost everyday, we would have much fun together… and we became so close that we saw ourselves as one unit. We called ourselves  _ OTMA _ , but now we are only  _ OT  _ after the argument with and exile of your Auntie Anastasia,” Tatiana sighed, her gray blue eyes drooping with sadness and resignation.

“Do you have a photo album? I would like to see you and your other three sisters together,” Ekaterina said.

“Why, yes! It should be somewhere in those shelves.”

Tatiana stood up from her seat and stretched her arms, letting out another sigh of relief. Playing chess for hours had left some tiredness in her thin arms. Nevertheless, she searched the shelves on both sides of the red-painted fireplace. She kneeled down on the wooden floor to sift through dozens of books before her hand settled on one. It was a thick, black-dyed leather covered book filled with countless memories forever frozen in black and white.

“This is our album of family photos, with some of them from the reign of the most recent emperor, Nicholas the Second of Russia. We titled it  _ Zolotyye gody (Golden Years) _ . Oh, how I miss the years of our youth… so carefree and happy.”

“Like the time we went to Livadia during the summer of 1928?” Ekaterina blurted.

“ _ Da _ , and be polite when speaking. It is rude to interrupt.”

“Yes,  _ Governess _ ,” Ekaterina joked.

Tatiana chuckled upon hearing her former nickname. “My sisters often referred to me by that word. That was because I often told them what to do in our earlier years before your mother became Empress and the current Tsarina of Russia. Some people have said that I had a natural inclination to lead, but as history went, your mother became the Empress.”

“So if there was a possibility of you becoming Empress, would you have taken that position?”

“With absolute certainty,  _ no _ . I could not ever fathom being an assassination target for my most passionate enemies… Let us return to looking within the album.”

Tatiana opened the album, revealing pages of grainy black and white photos. Most images showed a slim man with a beard in a suit or uniform, and some of them had images of four girls in the obsolete dresses of the 1910s. Ekaterina looked at one particular picture that caught her eye. The picture showed four young girls, the Grand Duchesses, standing still for a photo within the Mauve Room.

“Is that girl Mama, but younger?” Ekaterina said, pointing to the one in the center.

“Yes, and the girl on the right side of the photograph is me,” Tatiana said, holding the album.

“It is a shame that color photography has not been invented yet, even in this era. I wonder what this room looked during that time.”

“You can ask me about what the room looked like… at least the walls still have the gentle shade of mauve pink. Today, I heard that color photography has been created by Kodak, the company that manufactured the cameras we have used since our childhood. They call it  _ Kodachrome _ .”

Tatiana flipped pages of the album until she reached another picture. This time, the image showed a young Tatiana and two of her sisters building a sand castle. Anastasia could not be seen within the bounds of the photograph, causing Ekaterina to wonder where her youngest aunt was during that moment.

“Where is Auntie Anastasia in the photograph? Was she sick?”

“No, Katya. She was in good health for a young girl her age. I remember that she came only a moment after we finished that sand castle, and she trampled that. It was very shocking for me to see our hard work go to waste, even if the waves would reclaim it. Moments such as those made Livadia a special place for me.”

Ekaterina laughed upon recalling a memory from her younger years. After constructing a sand castle, she and her father had argued with their mother over naming their creation. Needless to say, her suggestion won out. A smile emerged on her face as soon as she recalled the specific conversation.

_ “Look, Papa, Mama! We built a sand castle. What do we name it?” her brother called out to their approaching parents. _

_ “Perhaps the Summer Palace?” their father suggested. _

_ Their mother shook her head. “I think that Livadia Keep would make a better name. What do you think, Ekaterina?” _

_ “Sorry, Mama, but I like Papa’s idea more. It sounds like one of our homes, The Winter Palace...” _

The radio switched from its daily weather forecasts to the news. The anchorman began to use a more serious tone as he announced a sentence that would disrupt the peaceful moment...

_ “Word from our Tsarina has arrived concerning our affairs with the German Communist Republic. Officially, we have declared war on communist Germany…” _

Both Grand Duchesses froze at the sound of those specific words. Ekaterina opened her mouth in shock, and her blue eyes were wide open. She knew that announcement gave her the long awaited explanation of her mother staying in Moscow, but she could hardly believe it! A war had seemed unlikely during her lifetime, yet it had just been declared.

“Auntie Tatiana? Is… is Mama and Papa alright?”

Tatiana could only stare at the radio with a shocked face. “I- I do not know, dear. I had a feeling that this would happen sometime in the future, but it still brings fear into my heart. Pray for your parents and Holy Russia.”

They heard a knock on the door a few moments later. Ekaterina stood up from her seat, hoping that communication from her parents had arrived. She opened the door, peeking from behind it. The person in front of her was a royal lady-in-waiting.

“Ah, Miss Irina! Has my mother or father called us yet?” the younger Grand Duchess said.

“Yes, they have. Both of you can follow me to the communications room,” the handmaiden said.

Both Grand Duchesses were led to the communications room of the Alexander Palace. Operators sat in front of telegram machines and telephones to either type their replies or talk into their phones. They noticed the entrance of the two royals, nodding to acknowledge their presence. One operator then pointed to his phone, and Ekaterina went to him.

“Are my parents on that line, Mister Kremsky?”

“Yes, your mother and father.”

Kremsky gave the phone to Ekaterina, who began to listen.

_ “Katya, we know that you have received the news, and we have discussed the situation with each other. Today, we need you to pack your things and prepare yourself for a trip to Moscow. Also, tell your brother to do the same,” her mother said over the phone. _

“Why, Mama? Are we not safe here around Petrograd?”

_ “Possibly. Petrograd is close to the edge of our coastline borders, so the communist armada can easily reach it compared to Moscow, which is further inland,” her father said over the phone. _

“I see, Papa. I shall tell  _ Seryozha _ immediately.”

_ “Good. Your mother and I will pray for you and your brother’s safety… we will see you two in Moscow.” _

“Papa, what about Auntie Tatya?”

_ “Yes, she will come with you two as well. As of now, we have contacted your drivers and personal pilots to send you, your brother, and your aunt Tatiana to the Petrograd Airport. There, the pilots will be awaiting your arrival.” _

Ekaterina turned to her aunt. “Auntie Tatya, do you need to speak with my mother?”

“Yes, dear,” Tatiana said, before being handed the phone.

As Tatiana spoke with her sister, Ekaterina looked away, deep in thought. How could her mother not return to their beloved home? It seemed so unnatural to the young Grand Duchess, who had spent much of her life within the Alexander Palace.

“Auntie, may I leave?”

“Of course, I will join you two later.”

She left the room, and she made her way down the main hall connecting the left and right wings of her spacious, lavish home. She reached the bedroom where her brother resided. Banging her knuckle on the white-painted door, she hoped that her brother was present.

“ _ Seryozha, are you there _ ?” she asked in a loud voice.

“Yes, I am here, Katya! No need to treat my door as percussion,” her brother said.

Ekaterina rolled her eyes at the comment. Her brother was definitely an annoyance with his attempts at humor in the worst moments. War had just been declared with the  _ Kommunreich-Ottoman Pact _ , the nemesis to Russia and her allies! The uncaring attitude of her brother infuriated her, and made her groan. The door opened, revealing a taller, athletic figured man in only his pants. From the top up, he was naked.

“Oh… I did not know that you were changing your clothes,” Ekaterina said in a near whisper.

Sergei threw his head back and laughed. Ekaterina sighed, placing her hands on her hips.

“You must realize… that our country and its allies have just declared war on communist Germany, the Ottomans, and communist Austria… and all you do is complain about your bedroom door. You should be packing your things now, as a plane is expecting us with Auntie Tatya to arrive at Petrograd Airport!”

“Alright, alright, sister! I knew that war would break out for some time, but today of all days?”

“Please, just  _ get prepared _ ,” Ekaterina said, giving her brother a hard stare with her blue eyes.

“Okay, okay, sister!” Sergei said, holding his hands up.

Her brother retreated into his room to change into his shirt and thick uniform. Satisfied with the compliance of her brother, the Grand Duchess went to her bedroom to pack her belongings. It had been the bedroom of her aunts Maria and Anastasia. Her belongings and those of Anastasia had long since been moved to another storage house in Moscow, and now the room was furnished with newer items. The old camp cot had been replaced with a new one, and a radio and mechanical alarm clock rested on the nightstand. Multiple electric ceiling lights now hung from the ceiling, emanating a bright glow. A larger wooden desk replaced that of her two younger aunts, and it held up a typewriter and framed photos of her childhood.

Still, the dragonfly mural on the pink painted ceiling remained still as vibrant in its lighter colors as ever. It had remained since the childhood years of her aunts Maria and Anastasia. As she took out her travel case, she looked around for the most important items she could bring along with her. There were the icons of Jesus Christ and the Virgin Mary, the Bible she had read since childhood, and her photo album.

“I will certainly not leave my holy icons and my Bible,” she mused, picking up the icons and Bible to place into her travel case.

She packed the icons, her Bible, and her photo album into the case. What else could she bring? She wished that she did not have to leave behind her many framed pictures of her favorite moments of her childhood and adolescence. She wished that she did not need to leave her beloved home. But it could not be helped. They needed to leave for their safety, and the future of Imperial Russia.

* * *

_ F _ _ our Hours Later _

_ Moscow, Russian Empire _

It was a windy night. The winds whistled by the royal couple, and snowflakes flew by in a seemingly infinite shower. Olga, who stood beside her husband Dmitri Pavlovich, watched her children Ekaterina and Sergei exit the plane in front of her, flanked by royal guards. Behind them, Tatiana was escorted by a pair of royal guards down the moveable staircase. Olga approached her daughter and son before embracing them.

“I am glad to see that you two are fine,” Olga said, giving a smile that seemed warm enough to dispel snow.

“Of course, Mama. God watches over us all,” Ekaterina said with confidence.

“He does. That is the greatest comfort that a human being can have when facing this twisted and evil world. He is with us, and he will assist us.”

Dmitri held out his hand to his wife, who soon broke the embrace, glancing back at him. His wife and children followed him to the armored car that idled nearby with a low, purring noise. Soon, the royal family was off, en route to their new home for the next four years: the Kremlin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next two chapters are prewritten, but I feel more comfortable editing them a bit more. Only then will they be added.


	4. Meet Sasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While her father and brother fight on the Russian Western Front, Ekaterina serves as a nurse in the Moscow War Hospital. There, the wounded were arranged to meet her and her mother. In the process, Ekaterina gains interest for a certain soldier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PRENOTE: The Russian Empire at this point in the timeline will still hold certain traditions such as the Grand Duchesses volunteering in charity work, but there will be some apparent changes that you will see! Keep in mind that in my alternate history, Olga I of Russia is a reformer at heart, which accounts for certain differences in the Russian Empire from the OTL one.
> 
> NOTE 2: Although the T-34 tank would likely not exist, I am certain that Russia would still have some tank models perhaps based on American designs such as the Christie Tank (from around the 1930s).

_ January 21, 1944 _

_ Moscow, Russian Empire _

The first sensation that Ekaterina had upon entering the war hospital was the faint smell of blood. A tingling sensation went down her spine when she thought of the gruesome sights she was about to see. Her mother, who was walking through the halls beside her, kept her face in a stoic expression. Their downcast blue eyes, however, revealed their true emotions. Both Ekaterina and her mother felt uneasy although Russia had sustained few losses so far. They carried baskets of pastries and photos of themselves to give to the soldiers. They hoped that the gifts would lift the spirits of the wounded and weary.

Only part of the Crimea had been captured by the Ottomans so far, but they would soon attempt to capture the Caucasus for its oil fields. To the relief of the Tsar, the Imperial Russian Navy had blocked further Ottoman reinforcements from reaching Livadia. The Ottoman incursion was practically trapped. The German Communists had tried to advance deep into Poland, but they were stuck at that current time. Although they had captured the Polish corridor splitting Königsberg from the east German side, they faced a combination of heavy partisan resistance and Imperial Russian Army forces with relatively maneuverable and fast Gradsky Tanks based on the American Christie tank.

The guards escorting them kept silent as well. They felt what their Tsarina and much respected Grand Duchess felt. The fear that the Entente war effort would fail was a small, persistent thing. It continued to erode their hope that the Entente alliance would succeed in the War of 1943. The possibility of the Germans making a comeback seemed still likely. Like Russia, Germany had industrialized over the decades under the industrialist dictatorship under Trotsky, their "Eternal Leader".

“Mama, what will families of the dying receive?” Ekaterina asked her mother, looking up with her pouting blue eyes.

“We will send money to fund their funerals and they will receive other financial aids if necessary,” her mother replied.

“I hope that this terrible war will end quickly. I despise the thought of countless human lives wasted.”

“It depends on what they fight for, my daughter. If they fight for a side that oppresses and mistreats its people, they are already wasting their lives. To waste is to neglect or to use for the wrong purpose. You must understand, dear, that you may have to do uncomfortable actions when necessary.”

“Such as war?”

“Yes, but it is a last resort. It is a terrible thing that tears apart families and nations… that is why few are so foolish enough to declare war at every whim. I speak from experience,” her mother replied.

“How did war affect your childhood, Mama?”

“The last war I lived through was the Russo-Japanese War, but that was so many years ago... But the past has long passed. Now we must comfort the soldiers.”

Ekaterina nodded, following her mother to a pair of closed doors. The head nurse and doctor of the Moscow War Hospital both bowed to their Tsarina and favorite Grand Duchess. The doctor, a tall and slim man with a brown haired crew cut, stood straight. Beside him, the head nurse, a petite blonde in a white and dark blue uniform, smiled at her Tsarina.

“It is an honor to have you two here, Your Majesty and her Highness Ekaterina,” the head doctor said.

“You are welcome, Doctor Nolan,” Olga said.

“How are you, Your Highness?” the head doctor asked Ekaterina.

“Me? I am doing just fine… but I am at a loss of what to do. I have done charity work, but this is my first time in a military hospital,” Ekaterina said, glancing around herself.

“Do not be nervous. I am certain that the soldiers here will be happy and inspired with your presence.”

The head doctor nodded at the head nurse, who opened the doors to the first hospital recovery room. Upon seeing their Tsarina and the infamous Ekaterina, the spirits of the wounded lifted. Their faces morphed from grimaces from sadness and agony to smiles of joy and comfort. Ekaterina waved at the men and women in their hospital attire. The men wore white shirts and tan pants, and the women wore white hospital gowns. A man with an amputated leg grinned weakly at Olga and Ekaterina.

Ekaterina then took notice of a blonde haired young man in the right corner of the room. His blue eyes were almost shut from the dose of morphine that he received some time ago. He also waved back, and Ekaterina gazed at his fit figure, feeling a heat spread in her facial cheeks.

“ _ He looks quite handsome… _ ” the Grand Duchess thought.

“Katya, do not forget to give the soldiers the gifts,” her mother whispered to her.

“Yes, Mama.”

“May we leave for our duties, Your Majesty?”

“Do what you must, Doctor Nolan, Miss Novosky,” Olga replied.

She and her mother went to the soldiers in the first pair of beds. Ekaterina placed her basket down, preparing to hand the nearest soldier her hand-baked pastries. The soldier spotted the basket and felt very grateful. It had been hours since his last meal.

“Your Highness, I would like a pastry… I am famished,” the soldier spoke quietly.

“Of course, here you are!” Ekaterina said, handing out a wrapped Danish pastry.

“ _ Spasibo _ ,” the soldier said, taking the pastry.

Next to Ekaterina, her mother prayed with another female soldier. Her smooth porcelain pale skin made her appear young. She seemed barely at the age of a university student. To the Grand Duchess, the soldier was too young to face the horrors of war.

Her mother and the unknown female soldier finished praying.

“What is your name, miss?” her mother asked.

“Yuliana Antova, Your Majesty,” the soldier responded.

“I assure you that your sacrifices will be acknowledged. You or your family will receive a sum of rubles no matter what.”

“My family is not very wealthy. I could not afford to attend a university, so I had to work on my family’s farm. Now I’ve joined the military to provide for my family and serve Russia. I thank you very much.”

“It is no problem… Would you like a pastry from my basket?”   
  


“Yes, I am surely tired of just eating rations,” Yuliana said, giggling.

Olga smiled at the soldier before reaching into her basket to take out a pastry. The soldier was given the food, and she savored its sweet taste. Ekaterina and her mother talked with each patient with propriety. She would never ask questions that were too personal or make any rude remarks. At the end of each conversation, she would give photographs of her mother and herself along with her homemade pastries. Seeing the frowns and grimaces of the soldiers disappear into a smile brought satisfaction and joy to her heart. As a Grand Duchess, she had a great responsibility to behave well.

Finally, the two royals reached the last patient, who laid on his hospital camp bed. His arm was in a sling, but the rest of his body was without any major wounds. Only a few bandaged scratches were on his arms and face.

Ekaterina felt the same strange feeling again when she looked into the blue eyes of the last soldier. She averted her gaze almost in an instant. Hopefully, the patient did not notice her unintended attention. She then noticed that he was silently looking up at her, as if expecting something. This soldier was different compared to most of the other patients. Unlike the first two soldiers she interacted with, this man was quiet.

The Grand Duchess then decided to break the silence with the soldier. “Glad to meet you, although I do not know what to call you.”

“Major Sasha- Sasha Pechev, Your Highness,” the soldier said.

“There is no need for the titles, you may call me Ekaterina.”

“You are named after Yekaterina the Great, I see. A noble and beautiful name.”

Ekaterina felt heat rise in her cheeks at the compliment. She did not know if he had some kind of adoration or crush on her. Instead of dwelling on the thought, she decided to change the subject.

“Yes… Yekaterina the Great was my mother’s favorite Empress of Russia. She did many good things for Russia, despite her flaws. My mother believes that I will make a good Tsarina once she abdicates for me.”

“I trust you. Like that Empress, your mother has also done great things for Holy Russia. My family enjoys hearing her speeches whenever they come on the radio, and they enjoy looking at newspaper articles of your family. We are very grateful.”

“Thank you for the kind words, Mister Pechev. I would like to talk with you. Of course, please do not ask anything overly personal.”

“Do not worry… I wonder how the war has affected your everyday life so far.”

“Well… I often venture outside my family palaces. My mother and I come to the hospitals every two weeks or so, and we talk on the radio on certain occasions.”

“I have heard your parents’ speeches, and they definitely stir the souls of all Russians. Whenever you speak along with your mother, it is just as inspiring. My parents hope to save enough money to afford an education for my younger sister, Natalya.”

“That is wonderful to hear, I am happy to see that my family is in good standing. I know that my ancestors have not always done the right deeds, but I will do my best for Holy Russia.”

“And I’ve been doing my part as well. I got this broken arm from a bad fall off of a two story house. The mission of my regiment was to retake Stevastopol, but we did not succeed. We lost a third of our men during that week before we had to retreat for regrouping. Eventually, we retook the city after… a great deal of urban fighting. I’d rather not say the details of what happened with those zealous Ottomans… but we managed to rescue two thousand of our Slavic brothers,” Sasha said, with his blue eyes shining with pride.

“Your regiment will be rewarded and honored for many years to come. I will speak with my mother about how we can do so,” Ekaterina said.

Ekaterina glanced at her mother, who approached her. They whispered to each other about how the victorious regiments would be awarded. Sasha then grabbed his journal and pen from the table beside his bed. The young soldier then began to write in his journal.

_ January 21, 1944: Moscow War Hospital _

_ Today, after a long ride on a Medical Corps train, I was taken into Moscow War Hospital. Her Majesty Olga I and her Highness Ekaterina visited us later. They were patient and kind to all of us, and I enjoyed speaking with them. _

Sasha looked up to see the Tsarina and the Grand Duchess sitting at the foot of his bed. Their whispers stopped when Olga held up one hand. The Tsarina spoke to the young soldier.

“My daughter feels much sympathy for your situations, and she understands the sacrifices you and your fellow peers have made for Russia. I have decided that your regiment will receive The Cross of Saint George for your heroic efforts.”

Sasha tried to speak, but he silenced himself when the Tsarina held up her hand again. 

“Rest, Mister Pechev. Do not worry about the upcoming ceremony for now. It will be arranged later,” Olga said, patting Sasha on the shoulder.

Sasha nodded before lying under the covers, placing his journal back on the table. He closed his eyes and realized how tired he was. His head felt light, but his broken arm felt heavy and sore. He fell asleep not long afterwards, allowing the embrace of slumber to overtake his weary body...


	5. Meeting Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks pass, and Ekaterina meets Sasha a few times. This is one of them.

_ February 4, 1944 _

Ekaterina huffed out a breath as she pushed the cart of snacks and water bottles towards the final room. A pair of nurses passed by, glancing at her at least two times. They greeted her with warm hellos. Ekaterina smiled back at them, despite not feeling very joyful. The Grand Duchess did not mind the attention from her peers in the war hospital. It was only a trivial thing to her, as she often received respect from the citizens she met. After all, she had inherited some good features of her parents, both in appearance and personality. Her round face and slender figure came from her mother, and her long and narrow nose and light brown hair came from her father, Tsar Dmitri Pavlovich of Russia. She had also inherited the sense of her mother and the sociable, cheerful nature of her father. Of course it was a matter of time until a patient took interest in such a fine Grand Duchess.

She thought of Sasha, the calm and reserved soldier from Ekaterinburg. It had been two weeks, and she had already gained a certain fondness for the young soldier. Her meetings with the still recuperating man were something for the young woman to look forward to during her time at the war hospital. Amidst the agonized groans of wounded or dying soldiers, she needed light in the dark, grim atmosphere within the facility.

Ekaterina sighed at the thought of the other soldiers from various divisions: the Imperial Air Force, Imperial Infantry, and so on. She felt worried about the men and women, but there was not much she could do since she had little medical training. The feeling of helplessness was terrible for her, and memories of gruesome operations often kept her awake on certain nights.

Pushing the gloomy thoughts out of mind, Ekaterina took a deep breath to calm her troubled heart. Soon, she reached the same pair of doors. Above the thick wooden doors, a brass sign read,  **Recovery Room 1L** . This was the room where she would once again see her favorite patient with joy.  Once inside the room, she smiled at the sight of the patients chatting and playing board games. The air was filled not with screams and moans of agony, but laughter and chattering. In the same bed at the back, Sasha could be seen sleeping. Perhaps her time with him could wait.

Yuliana, sitting on her nearby hospital bed, grinned. She was t he one that her mother had prayed with earlier. Her light blue eyes almost glowed with a vividness, as Yuliana had almost finished her recovery from her operation. Even with the medical advances, her case was notable: the removal of three bullets from her torso. The fact that she survived them seemed almost miraculous for the approaching Grand Duchess.

“How are you, Miss Antova?” Ekaterina asked.

“I feel better, although the wounds still ache when I feel them,” Yuliana said.

“It is best not to touch the wounds, miss. Allow them to heal.”

Yuliana nodded, and she glanced behind Ekaterina to peek at the cart. “Now that I realize it, I am parched. May I have a drink?”

“ _ Da _ , what kind? We already have new kinds of drinks, especially Coca-Cola imported from the Americans.”

“I would like Coca-Cola. I never drank it very often.”

Ekaterina nodded, and reached into the cart for a can of the requested soft drink. She served it to Yuliana, who voiced her thanks before sipping from the can. While her first served patient drank, Ekaterina glanced at the bed where Sasha lay, sleeping in peace. He rolled over and snored.

“You must be fond of Major Sasha,” Yuliana whispered, staring at Ekaterina with her light blue eyes.

Ekaterina turned around, and she thought of what to say. She had not expected this patient to suspect her feelings just after a week or so. She could feel her cheeks grow warmer by the second with a blush. Her hope was that Yuliana did not notice.

“Uh… maybe?” Ekaterina whispered back.

“You are, Ekaterina, and that is alright. But please understand that front-line soldiers like us may not live through this war. Just be careful.”

“ _ Spasibo _ , I must serve the others.”

Yuliana nodded, before stifling a burp in her mouth. Ekaterina took the now empty can and placed it in the wastebasket within the cart. Her mood lightened at the thought of befriending the soldiers. At least she would be able to connect with her future subjects, and an even greater reason would be finding her first friends. Life in the Alexander Palace was comfortable, yet it seemed so isolated and dull to her. The time she spent in the hospital was one opportunity that she would savor. Speaking with the patients and gossiping with the nurses gave her a feeling of companionship that she could not find at home. It was her chance to see the world, even more so than her debut ball.

Ekaterina then served each of the other patients, until she finally reached the final bed. She gave a smile so slight that one could have trouble seeing the curve of her lips. Her cornflower blue eyes focused on the face of the young soldier, taking in the sight of his facial features. His well-defined jaw and his down-turned nose both were attractive features of his face. The metaphorical cherry on top was his crew-cut light-blonde hair. The flat planes of his chest rose up and down in a steady rhythm, as he took calm breaths-

She realized that she was gazing at Sasha too long. To appear as if she had a lust for the young soldier would be scandalous. Ekaterina averted her gaze, looking back at her cart to decide what to leave for the soldier.

“ _ I am a proper Grand Duchess, daughter of Olga I of Russia, not some immature schoolgirl, _ ” Ekaterina thought, scoffing.

She reached into the cart and prepared a simple cup of water.

Before she could place the cup down, Sasha spoke, “That is water, miss, but I prefer Coca-Cola.”

Ekaterina gasped, flinching at the sound of Sasha speaking. She had thought that he was awake! The possibility that he was fake sleeping to rile her nerves annoyed her, and she crossed her arms. The snickering of Sasha was damning evidence. She sighed in exasperation.

“So, you were pretending to sleep, just to mess with me? Well then!”

Sasha opened his eyes, glancing at Ekaterina. “Not to mess with you…”

“For what?”

“I sometimes fake sleep to test my other senses, and I knew that you were coming, based on your distinct footsteps. For example, I can deduce that you do not walk on the heels of your feet.”

Ekaterina stroked her chin. “You are correct… Mister Pechev, I will believe your word.”

Sasha sat up in his bed, and grinned at Ekaterina. “Do you forgive me?”

“Of course, I certainly do. But please watch your actions around my mother. She is more tempered than I.”

Sasha raised an eyebrow. “Tempered? She never seemed so moody to me before.”

“Only because you have gotten on her good side. My mother deeply respects loyal and brave soldiers like you, and the common people as well.”

“What about the noble houses?”

“Some of them act against her will, but some of them agree with my mother. Whether they are favored by my family or not is well, complicated.”

“I thought that your mother was popular with them before,” Sasha said.

“She  _ was _ , but now more of the aristocracy oppose the reforms by my mother. Higher taxes on them only worsened the situation. Those that defy my mother receive other penalties as well… but I find politics boring.”

Sasha looked at his journal, and his blue eyes lit up with joy at the thought of the new friends he had made. Ekaterina smiled, and she decided to find something to sit on. Her legs were tired, especially after walking throughout the hospital for half the day! She found a spare stool near Sasha before she took a seat. The conversation with this interesting patient was definitely something that the Grand Duchess Ekaterina was looking forward to.

“If your duties are finished, I think that we can play a card game.”

“My mother never taught me how to play cards, as she disliked it. And, my mother will finish her hospital duties in a few minutes. I would not want to be caught playing cards.”

“Why does she dislike playing cards?”

“She thinks that it violates her belief that  _ luck should not be relied on _ .”

“Reminds me of the question that one of my friends asked me earlier,  _ does luck exist _ ?”

Ekaterina hummed, and fidgeted with a lock of her hair. “I do not think so. What we consider as coincidence or random events are the result of deliberate actions… since the universe is subject to a certain order from God.”

“Ah, you refer to the laws of science… like gravity!”

“Yes, that is one of them, Mister Sasha. Miracles happen because God wills so, not because He rolls dice. People meet each other not by coincidence, but through the complex result of their actions done on purpose. My point is, everything  _ can  _ be known and understood, and luck does not exist.”

Sasha nodded. “So, we can understand why suffering exists too?”

“I used to not know the answer, but I now do… it is the sinful nature of humanity that brings suffering. People do evil, and people suffer as a result. I can say that this horrible war began because of those wretched communists in Germany… and I hate war. In fact, I fear that my father may never return home. He is leading troops on the Western Front.”

“Do not worry, miss. I believe that Holy Russia is justified… we fight a war of defense. I pray that I will be able to return home. If not, then I shall find myself with Christ after death. Whether dead or alive, your father will be fine.”

“Very brave of you to say.“

Sasha smiled back at her. Ekaterina touched her baptism cross, which was hung on a necklace. She looked outside a nearby window, hoping that her father was still alive.

* * *

_ Hills Near Warsaw, Territory of Poland _

“Alright, men. We have come this far. Now is the time to take back our land!” Dmitri Pavlovich spoke into the microphone, staying in a camouflage tent behind his organized artillery troops. Beside him, his son Sergei peered at a large war map upon a large table along with several officers.

“Ura, Ura!” the soldiers chanted, pumping their fists in the air.

“But beware of revealing your movements. The goal of war is to fight in a manner that the enemy does not expect.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

“Fire the mortars at my command… wait until the resistance forces trigger their bombs.”

A minute passed, and the soldiers shifted uneasily in their positions. Some of them held binoculars with shaking hands, perhaps from fright or excitement. The portion of soldiers nearest the tent looked behind them to see Dmitri Pavlovich looking into a telescope, smiling. Another tense minute passed, and Dmitri returned inside the tent. At once, the sound of distant bangs could be heard. Soldiers that looked through the binoculars could see that the bridges and railroads to Warsaw had been destroyed.

“Fire!” Dmitri ordered into the microphone.

The lieutenants at once ordered the artillery teams to load and fire their mortars at the defensive positions of the Germans. Soon, the mortars all aimed at the concrete fortifications and dug trenches at the southern border of the city. What happened next was a spectacular and thundering cacophony of firing mortars. The sounds resembled that of a thunderstorm, almost like a force of nature. The soldiers all watched a series of fiery explosions envelop the German lines. When the smoke cleared, some of the soldiers looked through their binoculars again to see some German soldiers step out… such a foolish move.

“Fire again! Pound them relentlessly!” Dmitri ordered.

The mortars fired again… and again. The smoke cleared again to reveal scores of fleeing German defenders. The ground shook, and the sound of motor vehicles could be heard from a distance. Scores of Gradsky tanks with 40mm guns, with their dark green painted bodies glistening in the sunlight. The entire city had been cut off by tanks, which would guard the remaining outgoing roads. Now, the Germans had been cut off from reinforcements after just receiving heavy losses.

The Russian soldiers at their positions cheered. Some of them danced. Some of them sang the anthem “God Save The Tsar”. For certain, Dmitri knew that victory was possible, even after two months of near stalemate. He hoped that the war effort by Russia and her American, British, and French allies would soon succeed. The middle-aged Tsar longed to see his daughter and his wife. He sighed, distantly gazing at the walls of the tent.

Sergei stepped outside after hearing the cheers of the soldiers, and he looked back at his father. “Are you fine, Papa?”

“I miss your mother and your sister very much…”

“We will be fine, Papa. Someday, we will defeat the German Red Armada, and then we can be together as a family.”

“That’s the spirit, my boy.”

Sergei sat beside his father after grabbing himself his canteen. He drank from it, savoring the refreshing water and the sweet taste of victory. Dmitri grabbed a bottle of vodka, and he winked at his son.

“A toast, perhaps?”

“Yes, it has been horribly long since I have gotten drunk,” his son joked, smiling.

“Even this old man has to get drunk sometime,” Dmitri said, opening the bottle…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I hope that the religious or philosophical conversation did not seem too preachy. I think that Olga and her daughter would not be big fans of ignorance or "blind faith" when it comes to their beliefs, as they are the more intellectual side of the family. With people of their nature, they would tend to ask questions and think a lot to find the answers to them. I can attest from personal experience (involving my religious life).
> 
> 2\. As much of a great reformist that Olga is, she will have to deal with the fallout from her more progressive policies such as progressive taxation on the wealthy, et cetera. This fact in my alternate history is referenced in Ekaterina's conversation with Sasha.
> 
> 3\. Up next, there will be some Anastasia, Maria, and Dmitri moments along with the OCs.


	6. With Pomp and Romance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grand Duchess Ekaterina delivers the Moscow Address of 1944 to the entirety of Russia, encouraging the fight against the Berlin Pact of Germany, Austro-Hungary, and the Ottomans. As that happens, the exiled Maria Romanova, now Lady Marie, reunites with her husband Lord Louis Mountbatten.

_ February 7, 1944 _

Sasha, Yuliana, and the rest of their regiment's soldiers, stood in two lines, awaiting their awards. By decree of Olga I of Russia, they would all receive the Cross of Saint George, and the thought made some of them smile. The others dared not break their composure, as proper soldiers remained stoic. The front plaza in front of the hospital hosted the ceremony, and citizens had begun to take their seats in chairs surrounding the plaza. The soldiers stood in silence. The chattering of those within the crowd then dwindled as the familiar tune of  _ Prayer of Russians _ resounded from the brass band nearby.

The first soldiers in the line watched the stepped platform, where the respected Tsarina and her daughter awaited them. Both of the women held baskets filled with the shining silvery medals, smiling at the soldiers and from a feeling of satisfaction. Their country would march on, mightily through the night of war. Some within the onlookers began to sing along to the anthem, singing the lyrics from the bottom of their hearts.

_ “God save the Tsar!” _

_ “To the glorious one, long days,” _

_ “...give on this earth!” _

_ “To the subduer of the proud,” _

_ “The keeper of the weak,” _

_ “The comforter of everyone,” _

_ “Grant everything!” _

_ “The land of the first throne,” _

_ “Orthodox Rus',” _

_ “God, do save!” _

_ “Make her tsardom harmonious,” _

_ “Calm in strength,” _

_ “And everything unworthy, drive away!” _

By the time the singing had stopped, Olga felt her eyes watering with tears of joy and a certain passion for her country. She blinked hard, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. Russia had definitely gone a long way since the early twentieth century, and it had become what Olga had envisioned it as: strong and beautiful.

Ekaterina teared up, and she wiped her eyes. Like her mother, she had a love for her country. Seeing her future subjects happy was something she always wanted to see.

“The soldiers will receive their awards now,” Olga whispered to her daughter.

Both the Tsarina and the Grand Duchess faced the soldiers while the band switched to another sheet of music: the infamous  _ Farewell of Slavianka _ song. The band, all dressed in white, blue, and red suits, began to play the song. The soldiers began to step forward, and Ekaterina could see each of their familiar faces. Her time in the hospital had helped her remember their faces and their personalities well, and she had to admit that they were like the friends she never had. All she could possibly do was pray for their safety and survival. When the first two soldiers reached the platform, Olga and Ekaterina gave them their respective medals. Family members of the soldiers cheered and screamed aloud upon the sight of one of their own receiving honors from the Tsarina and the beloved Grand Duchess.

“Thank you for your service to Russia,” Ekaterina said, smiling at the soldier.

The soldier did a quick bow before he went to the seats beside the platform. There, the awarded soldiers would await the speech of acknowledgement.

The fifteen minutes or so seemed almost like an hour to Ekaterina, who wanted to see Sasha once again. However, the Grand Duchess would not dare to admit her growing fondness for Sasha. It was too soon. And, what would her mother think?

Soon, the last few soldiers, including Sasha, approached the platform by two at a time. One of them, a familiar blonde man clad in a dark olive green military uniform, stepped closer. His blue eyes gazed at Ekaterina, she felt her cheeks growing warmer. The soldier was none other than Major Sasha Pechev, who flashed her a grin.

“T- Thank you for your service to Russia,” Ekaterina stuttered.

She gave herself a mental scolding for her imperfect composure. A Grand Duchess should not stutter at the sight of anyone during a formal ceremony! Nor should she be acting like a love struck schoolgirl!

Sasha only gave her a slight smile, with a very modest curving of his lips. This only made the Grand Duchess feel more embarrassed than ever, feeling vulnerable. She took a deep breath and sighed.

“Take a seat, Mister Pechev,” Ekaterina said.

  
Sasha then did a quick bow in accordance, and as he went away, Ekaterina glanced at him again. In the deep recesses of her heart, she wanted him to survive the brutal war and live well. This thought had pestered her mind for over a week before. She did not admit it, but she felt uncomfortable with the thought of not seeing him again.

Once the last of the soldiers took his seat, the band played softer and softer, until their symphonic sounds had dwindled into the gentle breeze. Olga and Ekaterina stepped up to the podium, where they would give their speech to commemorate the regiment. Ekaterina knew that this would be the last time she saw the soldier that had caught her attention. If she was to send him away, she would do so in style with pomp.

The band played a military tune, and Olga began to speak into the microphone. Her daughter awaited for her part of the speech, which would be performed afterward.

Minutes passed until Olga finally finished her part of the speech. By then, the audience had broken into applause. Some of the relatives of the soldiers began to sing  _ Farewell to Slavianka _ .

“It is your time to shine, daughter,” Olga said, and Ekaterina nodded.

Ekaterina stepped to the podium in place of her mother. She waited until the applause had ceased. She gently took a breath. What she was about to do had high stakes. Either her words would have the power to inspire… or dissatisfy the valiant soldiers in front of her. She glanced at the paper on the podium. Thankfully, she had written notes to help herself keep fluidity within her speech. She did not know how she had found the power or confidence, but she felt a drive within herself to uplift her fellow Russians in the war effort. It was now or never.

“Throughout all times that Mother Russia has faced… from bliss and prosperity to war and hardship, we have emerged not only as survivors, but a people who have gained much. Through the trials by fire, we strengthen. We adapt and move on. Certainly, we have lost many, especially during these trying times. Yet, there is hope, as long as we are willing to face this horrid enemy of all that we love. Our Lord our God, our great civilization, and our way of life.”

Ekaterina paused for a couple of seconds, glancing at her paper again.

“Our progress in both war and peace never came from our leaders alone, even the Tsars and Tsarinas, Emperors or Empresses. Virtuous and loyal Russians such as all of you have contributed so much. Our leaders make large steps, but behind them is the force of millions of smaller steps by  _ you _ . The common Russian in all of you will always be valued. From the first day you wear this medal, remember that fact. Remember what you are fighting for as each of you and us fulfill this Great Duty. Not only us, not only Russia, but the world, which hangs in the balance between the darkness of totalitarian nations and the light of God-fearing, just nations. And may God save us  _ all _ !”

Ekaterina crossed herself. The audience did so as well.

The audience and soldiers burst into a roaring applause. People broke into song and cheers. Ekaterina exhaled in relief. She had stirred the hearts of not just the thousand within the vicinity, but also thousands of front-line soldiers and millions of her future subjects.

“Short yet well done, my daughter,” Olga said, patting her daughter on the shoulder.

“Thank you, Mama! I- I was so nervous! This is my first wartime speech... ”

“Do not be nervous, you have chosen and woven your words well, touching millions of hearts and minds.”

“Perhaps I should call this the Moscow Address?” Ekaterina whispered back to her mother.

“I would not mind.”

_ London, England, Great Britain: _

_ Buckingham Palace _

Lady Marie Nicole Mountbatten, formerly Maria Nikolaevna Romanova of Russia, embraced her husband, Lord Louis Mountbatten as he returned into their quarters. She sobbed into one of his arms, wetting the left sleeve of his suit and tie with her tears. They were not tears of sorrow or loss, but joy. At last, she could see her husband again, even if for only a week. That  _ blasted  _ war!

Lord Louis Mountbatten was the perfect match for the gentle, kind, and naturally maternal Lady Marie. He was a dark haired, dark blue eyed, and fair Englishman. His figure towered by around a third of a foot above her head, and how handsome he was with his oval face and well-formed chin! Even within his middle aged years, Lady Marie still agreed with that fact.

“Are you alright, my love?” Lord Louis asked.

Marie sniffled. “I- I am fine, it is that I haven’t seen you for so long!”

“I am here, dearest Marie. Do not fear, as I shall be here for a week.”

“Just hold me, as if things are as they were.”

“We could do that, or we could play some croquet in the royal yards…”

Marie looked up into those sapphire eyes. “I’d love to do that with you, absolutely!”

“Good. In fact, I’ve heard that your sister Anastasia is playing tennis with some of my family.”

“Well, let us not keep them waiting.”

And with that, Lord Louis Mountbatten took his wife by the hand with such gentleness, leading her out of their shared quarters. They still held each other by the hand, and they would enjoy at least a few hours of bliss from the Great War of 1943.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As some trivia about my alternate history, I've finally figured out a possible cause of this Great War of 1943: A Communist Germany destabilizing France during the Great Depression, which would have lasted longer in this alternate timeline. Without the war coming earlier, the Depression would last a little longer. Thus, the socialist or communist movements in France would have more leverage, being the bane to the Third French Republic. With Red German intervention in France close to Entente nation Great Britain, I believe that Great Britain and Russia would declare war, seeing the communists as a serious threat.
> 
> The sampled lyrics in this chapter are those of "Prayer of Russians" or Molitva Russkikh.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Olga does not approve of Anastasia's love fling with a palace servant and friend, and the two fall out of touch. Maria follows her younger sister to Denmark. The splitting of the Romanov family causes some of her relatives to criticize her. As a result, there will not be much mention of Anastasia or Dmitri (Anastasia) for the first few chapters.
> 
> 2\. In 1920, Grand Duchess Ekaterina is born. Her brother Sergei is born in 1922.
> 
> 3\. I read a study on the Romanovs' bones sometime ago. It turns out that none of the Big Pair sisters actually carried the type-B hemophilia gene, so Olga would likely bear healthy children. Sadly, Anastasia carried the hemophilia gene. AAAS Article: "Case Closed: Famous Royals Suffered from Hemophilia".


End file.
